Page 12 of All Hale the Queen

Something builds around us, like a heavy brick wall that seems to be closing in on us, drawing us closer.

Her teeth scrape along her bottom lip, and my eyes can’t help but stare at the rosiness left behind. And then a phone rings from the other room, startling us from our moment.

“Oh, that’s probably Phoenix. He usually calls me in the evenings.”

When she rises to get her phone, I begin clearing the dishes from the table. She joins me in the kitchen a few minutes later as I’m scrubbing the plates.

“You didn’t have to clean up, Antonio,” she scolds.

“I don’t mind. It’s the least I can do since you cooked such an amazing meal.”

Ophelia rolls up her sleeves and stands beside me, taking over the scrubbing duty while I put dishes in the dishwasher.

We talk as we clean and then migrate into the living room, sitting beside each other on the couch. There’s an easy simplicity about being with Ophelia, despite the grandeur of her home, and hours pass as the conversation flows as smoothly as the small river that ran behind my family home in Ireland.

I’m still laughing at a story she just told me about her friend Claudia when she pats my arm. “I think we need cheesecake. How about you?”

“Absolutely. Did you make it?”

“Hell no. That’s one thing I’m horrible at making, so I buy mine from Whisk and Whimsy.”

“Ah, that little bakery down the street from the Hale office buildings?”

“That’s the one. The owner, Clarissa, is a friend of mine, and she put together a sampler for me,” Ophelia says as she pushes up from the couch. My eyes follow her graceful form as she saunters to the kitchen, and I bite back a groan at the sway of her hips in those fitted jeans.

She returns moments later with two generous slices. “Cherry or salted caramel?” she asks, wiggling each plate.

“Cherry,” I reply instantly, and she hands it over before sitting beside me once again, this time a tad closer than she was sitting before. With one leg curled beneath her arse, her knee rests against my thigh. It’s either deliberate or she’s growing comfortable with me. Maybe both.

“Damn, that’s good,” I say after the first bite. The cheesecake is creamy and the cherries have the perfect mixture of sweet and tangy on my tongue.

“Agreed,” she replies around a mouthful. “You want to try a bite of mine?” She obviously notices the wicked grin curving my lips because she rolls her eyes and specifies, “My cheesecake.”

“I’ll take a bite of anything you’re offering, darlin’.”

She doesn’t seem to mind my innuendo-filled statement. In fact, she smiles when she forks up a large bite with her fork and holds it to my lips. I take it, rolling it around in my mouth and appreciating the salty-sweet goodness.

In return, I cut off a bite of my cherry-topped dessert and swirl the fork in front of her pretty mouth.

“Oh, I get a bite of yours too?” she asks with a little smirk.

Cocking one eyebrow, I say, “I always reciprocate, Ophelia. A bite for a bite.”

The spark of desire in her soft brown eyes is unmistakable. “Good to know,” she replies cheekily before closing her lips around the fork and pulling back slowly. My goddamn gaze is fixed on her, wondering how much of my cock she could take before gagging. The cock in question thickens behind the zipper of my jeans, and as we take turns feeding each other, my need for this stunning, vibrant woman only grows.

Once our plates are empty, I set them on the fancy wooden coffee table and return my attention to Ophelia. “What’s that smile for?” I ask.

She points a delicate finger at my face. “You have a little cheesecake on your lip.”

“Get it off for me, would ya?” When she lifts her hand, I gently stop her with my hand around her wrist and hold her gaze. “Not with your fingers, darlin’.”

Ophelia’s lips part, as if to ask a question, and I wonder if I went too far as the meaning of my demand hits her. When her eyes go from milk chocolate to dark chocolate in an instant, something inside me roars.

Placing her hands on either side of my face, Ophelia leans forward and licks my bottom lip. And sweet Jesus, she doesn’t stop there. She laps at me two more times, her tongue rough and wet, before taking my bottom lip between hers and sucking.

Whatever entity roared inside me earlier takes over, and I haul the petite woman onto my lap with one arm around her waist. “Come here, love.”

Holding the back of her head, I take over the kiss, my tongue insistent against the seam of her lips until she parts for me. The first brush of tongues has my cock jerking, and I pull Ophelia’s hips closer until the warmth between her legs meets the hard rod between mine.